WiR 2: Wrecked Identity :) (One-Shot)
by the pixlexic sloth
Summary: When he hears how Vanellope truthfully feels about Slaughter Race (and Shank), Wreck-It Ralph becomes hurt, numb, wrecked...and struggles to understand just why his little sister would be replacing him. (Second in a series of one-shots surrounding the WiR 2 plot and scenes :))


**WiR 2: Wrecked Identity :)**

**(This is the other side of the one-shot "Brick Wall"- seeing Ralph's side of the events going on...Which I feel like RBTI didn't do very well.**

**Although I understand the sequel's message (and ultimately accept Vanellope's decision to stay in the internet), I definitely feel _Wreck-It Ralph 2_ was one-sided in telling its story. I personally feel like it didn't explain well enough why Ralph felt the way he did, why he acted the way he did- or why he was even so strongly anxious in his attachment to Vanellope. I can see why some are heavily criticizing his character in the movie- but I don't think we fairly got into Ralph's head quite like we did Vanellope's in the sequel.**

**So this one-shot is dedicated to doing just that: getting deeper into Ralph's head, explaining why he is so attached to Vanellope- and later on, what fuels him to ultimately come up with terrible idea of releasing a virus into Slaughter Race.**

**The scene: Ralph's just listened in to Vanellope's conversation with Shank...and is trying to wrap his head around it all. He has plenty of mental agony ****over it- but ends up determined to talk with her in person about her decision.**

**Hope all enjoy!!)**

Ralph felt eye twitched, his mouth twisting up into a gawking gap. Which then turned into a befuddled snarl, right before it finally melted into a huge frown - a confused, wordless, _painful_ frown.

At that moment, his one stupid overall strap decided to slide a little over to his shoulder- which at any other time it would've bugged the Gene out of the temperamental man. But this time the wrecker could bearly even acknowledge it, let alone care enough to straighten it up.

The net citizens scurried in front of him, all of them looking smaller and..._blurrier_ in appearance than they looked just minutes before. They all seemed so unaffected, so sickeningly happy with that stupid and veneer smile plastered on their faces that Ralph could've pummelled each of them to mere coding if he got angry enough.

But he wasn't angry. Not at that point, at least.

The wrecker's little BuzziePhone -once something he checked every few seconds- then freely slipped from his fingers, mostly because he physically couldn't feel his large fingers anymore.

His heart being stabbed all over again, the wrecker just blankly watched for a moment as the little square device crash onto the floor from his hand and as it went rolling a few times. He could care else about the device now; in fact, he almost viewed it as an enemy. It had just allowed him to hear a completely heartbreaking conversation, after all...

The large, hurt man flopped (melted, really) down onto the box that had the new Sugar Rush steering wheel in it, not caring at all that the box caved a little bit...ok, _a lot_ bit under his weight. Beside him, Spamley had muttered something or another, something Ralph's fogged-up brain didn't catch or at least comprehend at that moment in time.

Because the hard, strong Wreck-It Ralph was numb.

Wrecked, really. Beyond wrecked- something he'd never felt before, not to this extent, at least.

_This can't be happening_, his mind screamed violently and denyingly at him, his chest heaving slightly. _Vanellope didn't say any of that...I'm just in a nightmare, a fog...imagining all of this..._

But deep down, Ralph knew the Buzziephone couldn't lie- and neither could he. He had just _seen_ Shank and Vanellope sitting on the hood of Shank's car, their backs towards him. And he _heard_ it all for himself, too- every single word they had said, everything they each expressed... everything _Vanellope_ expressed...

And because the phone had dropped and muted his side of the call, all Ralph could do during that horrible conversation was watch and listen as it had played out before his eyes. Just sit back and allow himself to be stabbed and cut over and over, deeper and deeper, becoming more and more wrecked as the conversation between the two girls went on.

It was so painful to Ralph that just the mental picture of Shank, Vanellope and their conversation was enough to cut at him, especially as he unwillingly replayed back in his mind over and over again...And unfortunately, he wasn't strong enough to force it to stop bruising him, wrecking him emotionally each time.

The intimate conversation Shank and Vanellope had was almost like a horror movie to Ralph- one that had almost seemed purposely and perfectly scripted to tear at its unbeknownst audience, one that said audience just couldn't unsee, unhear once he watched and heard it play out. One that he wanted to turn away from, to ignore altogether but physically couldn't...One that terrified him to his code, completely wrecking him more than he thought one little girl ever could.

And one that made his questioned everything he thought he knew.

And the longer he sat numbly on the caved-in box, the worst Ralph felt about the whole conversation- and the more constant the replay of it became as he sought to make sense of it all.

"Can I tell you something I don't think I could ever tell Ralph?" Vanellope had asked Shank, her voice begging the older women to say yes as they both sat with their backs turned to Ralph...

_What? Why would she ever say that?_ Ralph shook his head painfully, interrupting their replaying conversation in his mind. _Vanellope knows she can tell me anything!_... _Doesn't she?_ _And-and even if she thought she couldn't, why would she confide in Shank, of all people?!_

Despite feeling beyond hurt and betrayed by her expression, Ralph had no choice but to continue in his real-life horror movie...and to numbly rehear just what the child felt she could never tell him in person.

"The second I walked into this game...it felt like **home**, more than Sugar Rush ever did...," the child had said truthfully, pouring out her heart to Shank...

_What_?! the wrecker mentally questioned yet again, startled by her expression all over again as he felt a knife of sharp, unwanted emotions go stabbing a little deeper into his heart. _I-I thought her home was wherever I was as her best friend...that's how I feel about her..._

"It's like my dream...it's full of weirdos, and the racing is super dangerous, and you never really know what's gonna happen next...," Vanellope then had mentioned to Shank, Ralph literally hearing the excitement and happiness and edginess in her voice once again...

"Back home," the child had then compared, her voice purposely dulled and sad, "I know _exactly_ what's gonna happen ...all because it's _Ralph's_ dream is to do the same thing every day!"

That statement -particularly the last stretch of it- made the knife in Ralph's heart to turn a bit, twist up all the pain he had been trying hard to swallow but no longer could.

He still just didn't understand; how could Vanellope feel that way, make that statement?...

Yeah, sure- it was indeed admittedly true: Ralph did like doing the same thing every day, like knowing exactly what was going to happen every day ...

In fact, he openly _loved_ it. His life was perfect, after all.

For the first time in 30-something years of his life, Wreck-It Ralph loved his repetitive, boring, monotonous life. He loved waking up each day, well knowing exactly what was going to happen...

All because of Vanellope.

Ralph loved to start the day off knowing he'd be doing the same old things with her. To know they'd be watching the sunrise in the morning together, then go to work (for Ralph to focus on being with her at the end of the day, of course). Then for them both to head off to Tapper's or Tron or Burger Time for the night, like they always did...

He was happiest getting to go grab a Pac-man cherry (his personal favorite snack) or a Burger Time burger (with _extra_ ketchup and pepper, as Vanny likes it). Then to retreat back to the station to sit and gossip about things they pretended was their business or to play 'I Spy' or 'Guess What I'm Thinking Of'...

The wrecker glowed the most when he found himself staring out into the arcade from his game's apartment building with Vanellope sitting beside him or, better yet, upon his shoulder. He adored their random burping contests and building pigloos and being goofy, crazy, _free_ together...

They were finally free of judgment. Free of any care about what others thought or felt or did. Free of their past and problems and worries. Free of bad memories for them both- in fact, they could each connect their most cherished memories to each other, especially for Ralph with Vanellope...and finally, his past negativity was freed out of his mind for the most part.

After so long of doubting, of wondering, of being all alone in pain, Ralph felt content with who he was: the very good guy Vanellope made him become. She made him become the very person he always wanted to be- a true hero.

In fact, that kid was his very identity- Vanellope was at the core of who Ralph was as a person. Without her, he had no true identity... or if he did, it was just being the stupid bad guy again... Someone Ralph never wanted to return to being.

And with Vanellope by his side all day, every day, he knew he would never become that person again.

Ralph lived for being Vanellope's hero, her best friend, her Stink Brain- but more than any of that, though, every day he lived for just getting to be...

_H__appy_. Finally happy- now that he had Vanellope by his side. As his hero.

The simple fact was that Ralph's life was now worth really living after so many years of not knowing why. Vanellope gave him and his one-time crumby life actual purpose- and more than that, she made his life exciting and different and...

_E__nough_ for him. Vanellope and their friendship were enough for Ralph to live a happy, calm life- and that was good enough for him.

Even if he did the same things all day, every day for the rest of his life, even if he saw, he did, he ate, he felt the same thing all the time, the wrecker would be content- because most of that time would be spent with his very best friend. His little sister. His identity.

Vanellope was startling, undeniably right- it was Ralph's dream to do the same thing every day...because that meant he'd be with her -his identity as a person- in every step of the way.

And words couldn't express how much it wrecked him to know that she didn't feel the same way about him. That her dream just wasn't the same as his.

That she didn't view him or being his friend as **her** identity. Not even part of it in the slightest way.

Forcing himself to numb his pain, Ralph swallowed again, allowing Shank's response to Vanellope to forcefully fill his ears yet again.

"There's no law that says best friends have to have the same dreams, ya know?" The serious yet sweet woman said, her voice cotton candy soft as she eyed Vanellope with matching eyes...

Causing Ralph to shake his head slowly in confusion.

_But that's a lie, though! _Ralph wanted to scream so loudly in reply._ Best friends do have to have the same dreams! That's one of the things that makes them best friends, you dummy!_

_And-and t__hat's the only way the best friends will always be together, _he found his mental voice growing softer and softer, before long becoming a mere pathetic whisper_...and never leave each other..._

But in renewed mounting horror, Ralph knew deep down Vanellope didn't view things quite the same way even before she responded to Shank's words of wisdom.

Instead of disagreeing with her...or thinking about what that could mean for her friendship with Ralph..., the child quickly realized that Shank was right. Vanellope even thanked (er, 'Shanked') her, telling her how wise she was.

The two nudged each other playfully before Ralph's mind's eye again...and even though her back had been to him, he could still literally envision the child blushing in childish admiration of Shank...

Which only crushed soft-hearted man that much more- and caused so many unanswered, fretful questions to start to bounce around violently in his head.

_I'm__ Vanellope's best friend- so why is she acting like Shank is suddenly instead?_ he growled mentally, refusing to see why Vanellope admired the woman so much.

_Is that apart of her new "dream", though- to be Shank's best friend? _he then couldn't help but wonder._ Is that why Slaughter Race feels like home to her- because of Shank, and her being all wise and cool and fun to my little sister?_

_Is Vanellope...really replacing me for Shank in her life?_

And the worst question yet -one that caused Ralph's heart to ice over, shatter into pieces and made him slightly hyperventilate- came swimming forcefully into his mind.

_Does Vanellope view Shank as...as her new **hero**?_

"After you go home, and your life gets back to normal," Shank's response suddenly interrupted Ralph's pleading for answers, her tone echoing his mind as being so soft and tender as she spoke to Vanellope, "you're always welcome here."

"But that's the thing!" Vanellope had responded desperately to her, the child's voice pleading for Shank to understand- chilling Ralph to his code all over again. "I want this to be my normal...I want this to be my life."

Feelings of guilt, pain, confusion and a ton of other strong emotions washed over Ralph like another tidal wave, completely drowning the last bit of hope his heart had summoned. He pieced together what he took her words to mean, drawing what he believed was the truth as he sat stone still.

_A normal...a life...without me..._

"I can't go home now...," Vanellope had told Shank honestly suddenly, her little raspy voice thin and soft as she stared down at her shaking, twiddling hands. "I just can't..."

Those simple words stung like fire to an already raw wound, and just when Ralph initially couldn't possibly bear to hear anything past those words-

The Buzziephone had cut out on Ralph's end of the line. Just like that, the screen on his phone went dark- except for an adorable little profile picture of his one-time best friend.

The call had ended- completely cutting short the conversation on his side, which had just a hologram figure that was muted, anyway. Silenced by a little button, and even more so by his feelings, now so numb...so wrecked...

Abruptly becoming short of breath again, the wrecker was sucked back into the moment he was in, his phoning device now on the floor in front of him as he sat on the steering wheel box. His heart skipped a beat then back-fired to spit out too many beats for one second in time to hold.

"I can't believe it...," Ralph finally muttered out loud to no one in particular, not even Spamley as he empathically still stood beside the distressed man.

The wrecker felt like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him- and that he was being choked on top of that. Like he had been knocked out, dragged out emotionally, embarrassed to the max-

All by one tiny child that meant so much to him -arguably _too_ much.

When he tried to remind himself of the mantas he often sported to soothe Vanellope with -to 'stay calm, to breath a little deeper, that everything will be ok,'- Ralph was just met an ocean of emotions. All ones that he thought he had done away so many years ago, but each drowning him with every wave of pain, rejection, hatred...

Words he swore he'd never experience again now that he had Vanellope in his life, as his identity. Words he never thought he'd ever even associate with his little sister...words that he thought he was finally set free from.

Gulping back rare, stinging tears in his eyes, the devastated man sat hunched over, his eyes now unbearably blurry.

"She's supposed to be my best friend...," he mentioned softly, his heart stuck raw in his throat.

_How could she- why would she feel that way? _he inwardly questioned._ How could she just not come home? How could she just do that to Sugar Rush... do that to me? Why would she this to me?_

_What did I do wrong?_...

Those few words were ones that plagued Ralph for years upon years; every time others would get mad at him, judge him, reject him, he'd subjectively always ask why, what he did wrong...

Allowing his own hidden, dark, scary low self-esteem to come slashing back out to put a sharp hole in his happiness.

_What do you mean, what did you do wrong? _Ralph's dark mind hissed back at him, pointing a mental meaty finger at him as it always did when things went wrong. _You do everything wrong! You probably chased Vanellope off- no doubt what would've happened, anyway..._

_You're such an **idiot**, Ralph! What made you really think Vanellope would just stick around forever? That she'd just be a best friend with a moron like you for more than a few years? That she wouldn't eventually just find someone cooler, better...more special to her than you are? That finally, finally, you found someone who cared enough to pick you over anyone else?..._

_What made you think you could **really** ever be someone's lasting hero?_

His head pounding from all the mental, self-inflicted abuse his mind was suffering, Ralph gulped down a numbing knot, allowing his harsh thinking the punch him repeatedly- before inhaling slowly.

No...Wreck-It Ralph had not fought so much, so hard, been through so much for and with this kid just for her to forget about him. To let her just move on from him- and take his identity with her.

Suddenly, Ralph's divided mind -the very part of it who still hope, believed in his deep trust in Vanellope- lashed back defensively. It refused to just put his fragile yet strong friendship with Vanellope down, to simply and slowly die.

Vanellope, their friendship, his happiness...his very _identity_ was worth fighting for. Every ounce of it- no matter how hard his negativity tried to destroy it all.

"No, this can't right..."

_Vanellope is different than that, _he hissed back, his positive mind stronger, more firm and forceful in its pushing. _Others would've left me high and dry by now, but not her. I **know** her better than that. She'd never just do that to me..._

_But you heard her! _his negative mind roared back, mentally rattling the rest of his brain. _You heard everything she said! In fact, just hours ago s__he even admitted that being your best friend wasn't enough for her!!! _

Physically wincing, Ralph stubbornly shook his head. He had purposely chosen to forget she had said that- because it had hurt too bad to deal with. Even rehearing her voice, so free and candid on how she felt, now cut at him...

_NO! She didn't mean it like that! _Ralph fought back, screaming angrily- his hollow chest starting to heave as he became the less and less wrecked, his numbness weakening. _I **am** enough for her! I **am** fun enough, good enough...__I'm i__mportant enough to stay around in her life!_...

_And no internet...no __Slaughter Race...no Shank is going to replace me in her __life_

"She's been brainwashed!" Ralph growled out loud to Spamley as the wrecker snatched up his Buzziephone. "That's what this is! Because the Vanellope I know would never abandon me like that!"

Narrowing his burning, sharp brown eyes, the once wrecked man stood back up to his towering 9 feet. His back straight as his chest puffed out, Ralph snarled deeply.

Wreck-It Ralph was no longer wrecked. He was angry. Full blown, 'bad guy' angry. And nothing could cool him down or stop him now.

"I gotta get her out of there!" he hissed roughly, his voice sharper and more desperate than usual. "Now!"

At those words, the wrecker took off across the open layout before ebay, his stomp strong, heavy, and determined to make things right. To fixed the mess he and his best friend found themselves in. To convince Vanellope she was wrong, that she belongs back in the arcade...

To regain and safeguard his precious identity...

And to make that awful game of Slaughter Race become the very way he once felt: wrecked to its code.


End file.
